I Trust You To Kill Me
by FrostyFeelings
Summary: "Ask for nothing get nothing in return. Catch a fire watch the fucker burn" Rated M for sex and language NO TWINCEST


_Ok, when I began this little jaunt into the deviant area of Boondock Saints, I had originally had Conner in mind for the man. But as I got further into the story I realized that it could be either of the MacManus Brothers in this situation. Therefore, I gave no names at all to keep the fantasy open to whomever reads this. I am still currently trying to find a good anchor for this little vignette and may return with a full story at a later date. However, if you are offended by S&M or religiously themed sexual situations, READ NO FURTHER. I have also included a playlist just for fun. These are the songs that I can hear when I read this story. Please Review!_

"**Cat People"- David Bowie**

"**St. James Infirmary"- Hugh Laurie**

"**Dirge"-Death In Vegas**

"**Sail"- Awolnation**

"**I Trust You To Kill Me"- Rocco DeLuca and the Burden**

"**Uninvited" –Alanis Morrissette**

Smoke filled her lungs as she took one last drag of her cigarette to ease the pain of her aching head. Her eyes were a clear green and could've been the inspiration for David Bowie's "Cat People". The black t-shirt clung to her like a demon that couldn't be exorcised. She stood before the small crowd of people knowing that they were staring at the colorful pictures tattooed up and down her arms and chest. She knew that everyone expected her to belt out a few chords of a Janis Joplin song before being booed off stage. But she surprised every soul in the room when she banged out the opening notes to "St. James Infirmary", on the black Steinway. She was suppressing the urge to bolt off the stage and run out the back door until she looked up and tried to focus her eyes on a dark figure near the bar. The man leaned against a bar stool and smoked a cigarette as he watched. She had never felt so vulnerable in her entire life as she did standing there on the stage trying to will herself to go through with this.

She knew the man that stood at the back smoking looking disinterested. Her heart pounded as her cue to sing grew nearer. She closed her eyes, began to sing and had everyone in the bar floored as she eased effortlessly through the song. The conviction and sorrow with which she sang the haunting tune amazed the dark man. The room was eerily silent as the final notes faded into the darkness and smoke. No one moved for what seemed like an eternity until she stood up and walked off the stage and through the back door. As the door slammed behind her she could hear the roar of applause from inside but her heaving chest and the sound of blood rushing in her ears drowned out any sound of appreciation she may have earned. The shadows in the dark alley were teeming with a thousand evil deeds done by a thousand evil men. The whispers and taunts around her forced her to prop herself up against the cold brick wall with outstretched arms. Her palms sweaty with nervousness slid on the hard stone beneath them. As her forehead connected with the brick she turned her head to see the man standing at the end of the alley near the street. She couldn't help but stare at his figure as the lamplights illuminated his silhouette. Her pulse jumped and her breathing quickened as he approached her. She was now more terrified than she had been inside in front of 50 strangers. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, his face came into focus. His black coat was unbuttoned and she could just glimpse a gun on his shoulder holster. He stood before her for a moment before lighting a cigarette. He began to clap sarcastically and the sound echoed through the alley like passing gunshots. She thought he would just walk away but instead he grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall facing him. He held her hands over her head with one tight grip on both of her wrists. With his free hand, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it down the alley. Then he kissed her and blew the smoke from his cigarette into her mouth. She panted under him as he pulled away and smiled a malicious grin.

Her one mistake was letting him control her. He knew that he had the upper hand in the situation. He wasn't going to relinquish his power over her. She was a stubborn bitch that didn't like to be controlled, but under the pressure of his body she didn't have a choice. He looked at her with a sadness that she hadn't fought back. He was looking for a fight. Not letting go of her wrists, he drug her down the alley and shoved her unceremoniously into a waiting cab. He kept his arm low and stuck the gun from his shoulder holster into her side conveying to her silently to be keep quiet. The cab pulled up in front of a dilapidated building and he motioned with the gun for her to get out. Grabbing her arm he pulled her to the front door and pushed her inside. She tried to run but he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her backwards against him. With the gun to her head and her hands pinned behind her back, he whispered into her ear, "Try to run again and Ill plant a bullet in your kneecap." He lowered the gun and ushered her upstairs. The rotting steps were creaking and shaking as she ascended the staircase. The only light filtered through the dirty windows from the outside street lights. At the top of the staircase a length of rope was draped over the banister. He picked it up as he pushed her towards a door at the end of a long dark hallway.

"Open the door." He commanded.

She opened the door into a huge room with one window. Once inside, he threw the rope on the floor and pushed her up against another wall. He was wishing that she would show some of the anger and fire that she had when they first met. Looking at her in the light that was coming through the window, her eyes changed. She licked her lips and gave him a devilish grin before spitting in his face. There it was, the fire that made him take notice of her in the first place. He couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss her or slap her. So he did the latter. When his hand connected with the side of her face, he could feel the burning sting on his own hand. Her face turned and when her eyes met his, he knew she wasn't done. Her lip was bleeding and she spit at him again. Blood and saliva dripped down her chin onto her chest. He wiped his face on his shoulder and kissed her hard. While their tongues were flicking in and out of each other's mouths, she bit his. He could taste the blood in his mouth but didn't stop. Finally out of breath, he pulled away from her. They both had each other's blood smeared around their mouths and lips. Time stopped as they stared at each other breathing raggedly. He reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a set of handcuffs. She struggled wildly as he secured them around her wrists.

She gave him a good kick in the shin but he slid his foot underneath hers and she was on her back on the floor. With her hands still cuffed above her head, he drug her by her feet to the other side of the attic. Just to make sure she didn't try to run again soon, he pointed the gun at her kneecap and fired a shot right next to it make his point clear.

"Stay." Was all he said to her before turning to walk to the other side of the room. She could hear him rummaging around for something and had one point he muttered, "Fuck!" into the darkness.

He struck a match and lit a hurricane lamp on a table. He crumpled up a piece of newspaper and lit a wood burning stove in the corner. Her eyes searched his face in the low light for some form of repentance or emotion. She saw neither.

Her arms and shoulders were starting to ache from being stretched and twisted. The pain was good though. Pain just made things better. She shifted nervously against the ancient wall and could feel the wind from outside blowing around the house. She felt something crawl across her hand and jerked to get it off.

"Probably a cockroach. Keep the fuck still." he said from the other side of the room without looking up. He put his shoulder holster on the table and then began to place various items from a duffel bag next to it. She counted a whip, a roll of duct tape, a large hunting knife and a bottle of whiskey on the table. This wasn't a random thing, something he came up with off of the top of his head. He had been planning this all along. He pulled his black turtleneck off and took a long swig before wincing at the burning feeling that ignited his mouth where she had bit him. In the dim light she could see that his body was riddled with scars and bruises. He was a beautiful monster. He sat on the floor and pulled off his boots and socks before stalking towards her and putting the bottle of whiskey to her lips. The liquid fire oozed down her throat and warmed her belly. Crouched in front of her, he took another long drink before pouring some into his hand and drawing a cross on her forehead with it.

"What is your confession?" He asked her.

"I am guilty of fear, murder and revenge." She answered him not blinking.

"Then I absolve you of your wretchedness and grant you the chance to repent."

He then stood and threw the bottle of whiskey down where it smashed and shattered into a thousand little pieces on the hardwood floor.

"Get up." He commanded.

She tried to tuck her legs underneath her body but she couldn't will her legs to move. After watching her struggle he pulled her to her feet and dragged her to the middle of the room. He turned her around to face him and put his hand to her cheek. His hand was like ice on her warm skin. She stared back into his blue eyes and suppressed a shudder at what she saw in them. The pain and love that she saw swirling in his sapphire irises reminded her of why she clung to him like the last leaf hanging on for dear life during an autumn storm. He turned her away from him and pushed her up against a wooden support where he tied her already cuffed hands around the rough post.

The cheek that just seconds before had felt his gentle touch now felt splintering wood pressed into the delicate flesh.

He took the knife from the table and made one clean slice from her neck to her waist through the thin jersey fabric that was her t-shirt. He unhooked her bra gently and laid his open palm across the tattoo on her back.

"This is how I show my love." He whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes and tried to mentally prepare herself for what was about to happen. The next thing she knew, she heard the crack of a whip whistle through the air and come down on her bare flesh. The stinging cut it left on her shoulder bone was just the beginning of years of pain being released through the blood down dripping down her back. Another crack came down, then another and another. She could hear his labored breathing with every snap of the whip. When she couldn't take anymore and thought that she might pass out, she sagged against the post and cried out like a banshee in the night. He gave her a few minutes to compose herself before he cut her down. She was shaking when he picked her up, cradling her gently like a sleeping child. That was where the gentility ended.

He dropped her into a chair next to the stove and pulled off her shoes and jeans. She now sat naked in the chair while he stood over her staring.

"You are a wicked vile creature that has turned away from God's loving embrace. So he shall smite thee with the wickedness that has come forth from thy own hand. Thy Lord will show mercy through pain and suffering."

Her head lolled forwards as he spoke. When he thought that she had passed out he yanked her hair back hard enough for her to emit a small scream.

"Your judgment day is at hand evil cunt."

She panted at the pain spilling from her back but looked him dead in the eye.

"I trust you to kill me. Saint, brother, friend, lover. I trust you to kill me."

"Death is not awaiting you when the morning breaks, girl. Just one more day of evil to atone for."

He took the knife from the table and held it to her chest pressing it in just enough to draw blood.

Her body shuddered from the ecstasy the pain brought her. She leaned back in the chair and drew her breath through her teeth in a hiss. The cut he left her with was shallow and would not scar but the feeling it gave her would last a lifetime.

He put the knife away and took off her handcuffs. He knew that she would not run again. She immediately dropped to her knees and bowed her head in supplication.

"Bless me father for I have sinned." She asked.

He gently put his hand on top of her head and sighed.

"Are you ready for the punishment that God has deemed you worthy of?"

"I am father."

In a blink of an eye, he tackled her to the floor and covered her mouth with his while his hands made quick work of his jeans and boxers.


End file.
